Revolution 9
by Amy in the Sky with Amethysts
Summary: Not ATU. When 17 year old 'Bela Garcia died in 2006, she had no idea of what lied on the other side of the astral veil. After being fed up with the rules, could she and a friend who was famous in his last life cause a revolution that would affect both the realms of the living and the dead?
1. Tomorrow Never Knows

**Author's Note:**** In this fanfiction, I will rip the idea of a life after death to pieces only to reconstruct it. I will also include a certain Mayan Calendar in this, but the World will not end. It will just be changed for the better. I will include an OC and John Lennon but they are working together to challenge the Universe's laws. If you like the sound of this fanfiction, read on. If you don't, then you can do whatever (flame me, troll me, click the back button), I honestly don't care.**

_Death, death is scary. Death hurts. Death is the end. There is no Life after Death._

_Ghosts, ghosts only harm. Ghosts frighten. Ghosts can't hurt you. There is no such thing as Ghosts. _

_Life, Life is beautiful. Life sucks. Life has no purpose. Life is all there is to this world. You only live once._

8:37 AM, August 5, 2006. I looked at my alarm clock. It was Saturday. I hated Saturdays so much that it was one thing I remember getting hung about all the time. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, it was the last day of my last life. I heard my mother yelling in Spanish. She was mad about me not getting out of bed because I was going to be late for babysitting my cousins who live (they still are alive and still live in their fancy house as far as I know) about hour away in El Paso, Texas. I hated being 17. It gave me far more responsibilities (car, gas, job, dishes, laundry, and emergency credit card) than what I was comfortable with.

I got out of bed, still groggy. I changed into fresh underwear, pants, and my Abbey Road t-shirt. I put on my red flats and walked to the kitchen. My mom, Estella Garcia, was holding a plate of pancakes. I grabbed the plate and headed to the dining room. My mom followed me and sat on a chair. As I was eating my breakfast, my mother was looking at me as though I were a ghost eating at her table. I was sick of her look. In an angered outburst, I spoke," Will you stop looking at me like that?! I know you're my mom and I just turned 17, but could you not look at me like at any moment I'll be gone! I know I'm a senior in High school but the school year hasn't even started."

"Chabela, I'm just worried about you. I don't know how or why, but I feel like something bad will happen to you while you're in El Paso," My mother pleaded to my unhearing ears. I finished eating the pancakes, grabbed a can of coke from the fridge, killed it, and I burped loudly. My mother looked disgusted but I laughed. "Everything'll be alright, mom. El Paso is a pretty safe city, even if it is right next to Juarez's drug violence. I'll be fine."

She still looked skeptical. She sighed," What song do you feel like today?"

I stood, taken aback. "Por que?"

She repeated the question and added," You know, when you were younger. You used to say that certain days felt like certain songs. I want to know what today feels like for you."

I answered instinctively," Today feels like it's an 'Across the Universe' and a 'Here, There, and Everywhere' day to me." My mom looked at me as if she wanted another song from me.

She looked at me gravely. "What song would you like to have played at your funeral?"

I could feel frustration cause my blood to boil. Sarcastically, I stated," Play 'Another One Bites the Dust' by Queen or 'She Said She Said' by The Beatles then, at least get someone to laugh at something morbid because I hate the idea of people crying over the fact that I'll be dead. There's nothing we can change about it, mom! Being sad over something that happens to everyone is stupid because you'd see me on the other side," My mom looked hurt so I continued with my honesty," Play 'Tomorrow Never Knows.' It's the last song off The Beatles' album Revolver. Just trust me on this." I kissed her cheek and headed out the door.

I took a moment to relax and breathe in the Las Crucesean air. I could feel that the day was going to be hot. I hurried to my car and I realized I had forgotten my keys. I mouthed the word 'shit' and I was about to head back to the house. My 10 year old half-sister stood outside the door. I saw a glimpse of silver and I knew that she had my keys. I yelled to her," Abby, could you hand me my car keys? I need to go to El Paso."

Abby hurried to me, just to hug me. I could feel her tears through my blouse as she cried," 'Bela, if mom loses another person in her life, she'll blame me for it like how she blamed me as the reason dad left when I was 9."

"Abby, relax. I'm not dead and it's not your fault that dad left," as I spoke the words she needed to hear. That last sentence wasn't technically a lie. Our mom had cheated on my father with another man and Abby was the illegitimate child that resulted from that affair. The reason my father left us last year was because that was the year he found out mom had the affair. My mom was to blame for all of Abby's misery. She was a good kid and didn't deserve that crap. "Now could you please hand me my keys?"

"Mom told me to go with you. She knew I was going to be alright and she thought that my luck would pass over to you," She grinned as her emotions switched. I sighed but she handed me the keys. "Alright, get in the yellow beetle," I smiled, referring to my yellow Volkswagen, continuing," Here we'll go to Spirit Winds and get two mocha and a cookie to go on the trip."

"Then could we play Revolver?" My sister smiled. She always had a soft spot for that Beatles album like I had a soft spot for her. "Sure."

**~.~.~.~ ~.~.~.~.~ ~.~.~.~**

We arrived in El Paso at 9:45 AM. I parked the car in my uncle's driveway. I grabbed the CD case for Revolver and after coaxing my stereo system, I placed the CD into the proper case. I opened the car door. I knew Abby had left before me and was standing at the doorway. She knocked at the door. I held the CD case with my right hand; something knew that I was going to need it. I walked to the door. My Uncle, Manuel, opened the door as he spoke," Ah, Chabela, it's good to see you and Abby too." Abby's smile widened and really added a sparkle to her blue-green eyes, which were unfortunately a sign of the affair.

"I needed a helper today so I stole Abby," I playfully joked with my uncle.

"Didn't your mother tell you that if you steal, then instant karma'll get you?" My uncle was a joker and did what he pleased most of the time.

"Well we all shine on like the moon and the stars and the sun," my younger sister added. I taught her most of what I knew about The Beatles as well as their solo careers. Our uncle let us into his nice looking adobe house. I could hear my younger twin cousins Maria and Alicia playing in their room. "We'll take care of your daughters, Uncle Manny. I'll protect them if it's the last thing I do," I reassured him as he left the house. He nodded, confident that nothing would happen and for about fifteen minutes, it was absolutely boring.

"You're no fun 'Bela!" Alicia whined as I had refused to play with her "My Little Pony" dolls. After 12 minutes of playing with them, even her twin was sick of the plastic equines. There was a loud thud, like someone had kicked open the door. All three girls that were younger than me were going to scream. I did the 'shh/be quiet/silencio' gesture and they understood immediately that if we made a noise we could all die. I authoritatively whispered," Abby, I'll try taking down the robber. You lock the door and call 9-1-1 if you hear my screams or the robber dying. Hell, call 9-1-1, now as I leave."

"But, what about—"I cut Abby off. "Look, your safety is more important than mine. Just stay quiet and make sure all of you hide in the closet." I stared at everyone sharply and they understood. Abby grabbed a phone and watched me exit the room with what would be considered stupid weapons of choice: a Barbie boom box and the Revolver CD.

As I heard the door shut and lock behind me, I marched onward. I could hear my footsteps echo on the tile floor. As I walked down the stairs, I could see that the door was closed but there was muddy shoe prints on the white tile. I could smell the foul body odor stench of marijuana. I heard a deep voice echo throughout the large living room. His words were muddled from smoking the joint. I crept forward, slightly unconfident in my original plan. I walked around the corner and I saw a Hispanic man, around 19, smoking a joint, dark brown eyes that were not unlike mine, wearing a white wife beater; a plain golden chain; red bandanna; and blue jeans with a loose belt. He also had one object that he had placed on the coffee table: a revolver. For ten long seconds, I stared at the gun. My morbid fascination was broken when he spoke. I looked up as he repeated the question," Wanna play a game, senorita?"

I just stood there like a dumb animal. I let fear overtake me. I blinked and he held the gun next to my head. "I said 'Wanna play a game, senorita'!" His voice echoed. I cried and curled up into a fetal position on the floor. Tears streamed down my face," Please don't kill me! I have a life to live. I'm only 17…" I trailed off weakly.

"You're a little old be using a Barbie boom box. Don't you think?" He sneered cruelly and he emphasized the word 'Barbie.' He continued in the same tune," How about I play your CD and then I'll kill you when it's over? After all, the album's name is a gun."

He was going to let me live. Granted only for 35 minutes roughly, but the police would come here in time to save me. They had to. He put my CD in the boom-box and I could hear the familiar guitar opening for "Tax Man." He handed me a purple pen and a sheet of paper. My gaze shifted between the paper and the gangster. After the song was nearly done, he spoke again," I want you to write your letter to your father." He thought my uncle was my father. I nodded. I started writing to "Eleanor Rigby"; I addressed it to my mother. I still had hope that Abby had enough sense that she would stay in the closet and call for help. I began listing what I wanted for my funeral: dark purple flowers, red roses, white roses, and a mahogany coffin. By "Love Me To", I cried as I began losing hope in the police. I pulled myself together when my killer looked at me. I decided to confess my sins in my death letter. I admitted to lying and lying about not being a virgin to bump my status at the high school I went to. "Yellow Submarine" and I began thinking about the song from a really dark perspective. _It could be a coffin and we're all destined to unite in the afterlife._ I had around 20 more minutes to live. "She said, I know what it's like to be dead. I know what it is to be sad." The lyrics filled my head and I thought for a moment that John and George are on the other side. When the police don't come, I could find them. "Good Day Sunshine" was a slap in my face. Paul was telling me that today would be a good day_. No, this day is the shittiest day ever._ I felt myself wanting to do something about my fate. Where were the damn police? "For No One" gave me courage to continue writing about the situation, and the fact I was stupid for thinking I could stop the gangster with the power of music. I wondered if I lived being shot at whether a doctor would be able to fix me like "Doctor Robert." I began listing more things that I wish I could have done: climb Mount Everest, eat at a Hard Rock Café, been married in Vegas. I didn't have much time. I just had 6 minutes, not forever. I didn't have time. I didn't have time. The gangster offered me a toke of his joint. I declined, depressed about my fate. The police weren't coming to save me. Everything about relying on the police was a lie. I wrote one last thing on the letter: "Mom, please play 'Tomorrow Never Knows'. It'll be the last song I'll ever hear." As the familiar song started, I heard sirens. Police sirens! They were coming for me. I screamed in joy and he lifted the gun.

1st shot!

I felt a sudden sharp pain that went through my lower back.

2nd shot!

It went through my arm and I could see the blood on wall.

3rd shot!

I fell to the ground, my head throbbed and my right hand could feel the warmth. My vision faded.

4th shot—

My head hurt again and I could start to hear the detached sounds of the police breaking into the house. The pain faded to nothing and I knew that I was dead.


	2. Nobody Told Me

**Author's Note: I really like all the reviews for this and yes, Revolver is tied with Rubber Soul for my favorite album. I just want to say thank you for the watches and reviews because they make my day a whole lot better. By the way thank you everyone for reviewing.**

I stood up from the spot that I died. Wait, that couldn't have been right. I was dead but my uncle's living room looked the same. I didn't see the bright light or the pearly white gates, or even stereotypical visions of Hell. I saw a police officer walk into the living room. He looked through me and down at the floor where there was blood across the white tile. He looked stunned for a second. I turned around to see what he was looking at.

I barely recognized myself. My dark brown hair had a section of hair that had been "glued" by my blood. My Abbey Road t-shirt was thoroughly ruined from the ordeal. I looked down at what my spirit/essence/Rubber Soul was wearing and I was wearing the same shirt but it was like it was brand new. I ran my hands through my hair and there was no sign that I had taken two bullets to the head. I was in shock. There was no doubt in my mind that I was dead. I decided to walk up the stairs again to go check on Abby and my cousins to make sure they were alright. I wondered since I was technically a ghost if I could walk through walls. To kill my curiosity, I stuck my hand through the bathroom door. One thing was right from children's books' interpretation of ghosts: we could go through objects.

I saw that my cousin's bedroom door was open and that Abby and my cousins were out of the closet and talking to an officer. Abby was bawling as she spoke," My sister didn't listen to me. If I had said something, then maybe 'Bela would still be here." I hurried to Abby and touched her shoulder. I tried to comfort her," Don't worry. I'm okay, Abby. It's not your fault." She couldn't hear me. For a moment she stopped crying and looked directly at me. I thought for a moment that I wasn't dead, but she couldn't see me anymore and that idea dissipated like smoke. I felt completely useless and I knew that the only thing that was keeping me here was concern that the gangster would attack my sister. From the corner of my eye, I saw a glowing green door. Since my sister, my cousins, and the police officer didn't notice the door, I knew that it was one thing I could see. I waved 'Goodbye' to everyone and I opened the door to the other side. John and George were waiting on the other side of it. I was positive of it.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

I closed the door behind me and I saw that I was in a courtroom. Sarcastically I thought,_' This day keeps on getting better. First I die. Now I'm possibly going to Hell. Just peachy.'_

The Judge spoke," Chabela Renata Garcia, there is no need to be afraid. We're going to see if your karma has finally balanced. I remember that you were mad the last time you died because you had to balance out the fact you shot a boy four times. Twice in the back, the other two times were to the head."

"Well he wouldn't date me," I could feel myself blushing at remembering the past life. I realized that I had been in this same room at least 20 times before. All of times, I was learning more about how life works and I'd been through it with most of my family members before. It was all a repetitive cycle that was starting to tick me off as I had been on it so many times. I wondered aloud, "So am I finally balanced?"

"Yes, you are. Unless you want to get on the cycle again…" The Judge smiled crookedly as he offered me another life that I didn't want.

"No, can I finally see the City of Souls?" I pressured the judge. I was not going to be knocked off course because I had lived 20 lives so I could finally have peace of mind. No more dying pointlessly. No more crying tears that won't even affect anything in the long run. Finally I would have peace of mind.

The Judge sighed but using a discreet lever he opened a door to a shining city. I was flabbergasted and began to say "Thank you!" repeatedly as I walked through it. Little did I know was that my afterlife was not going to be this quiet.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

I spent what felt like forever walking across pavement and against the flow of the pedestrian traffic. I was reminded of the song "Too Many People" by Paul McCartney. Part of me was surprised that there was so many souls here. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that other people had lived at least 20 other lifetimes. Getting bored of the flow of walking on the pavement that was against the glass skyscrapers, I walked through a park that reminded me of pictures I had seen on Google of "Central Park." I was trying to find at least one soul who would remember me. I continued walking and I saw that there were several couples that were just sitting together and talking. I wanted to curl in a ball and cry. Even in the afterlife, there are lonely people. I was unfortunate because I was one of them. I stood still for a long moment, despair began clouding my thoughts. Everything that religion offered to me for an answer was false. I sat under a tree and began crying.

"You alright there?" I heard a familiar voice ask me. I had closed my eyes, just sick of everything about this place. I nodded and replied back," Yeah, just getting used to the idea of being alone. I would have thought that I knew at least one person here."

"Yeah, I would have thought that me mum Julia, and Stu would be here. I guess people don't tell you how many lives they have to live before their karma is balanced." The familiar voice answered again. I had enough information to guess that John Lennon was talking to me because we had nothing to lose or gain from lying. I could feel my mood improve and I laughed," I guess they should really bring back the Egyptian Book of the Dead or remake them or something."

"Or perhaps innately knowing how many lives you have left to live." John offered. I could sense that someone was sitting next to me near the tree. "Yeah, I can just see the teenage boys going crazy with that." I playfully lowered my voice," Hey babe, this is my last time through the cycle wanna make it a good run?" We both laughed and I discovered that I was right. John Lennon was sitting under a tree with me. Miraculously, we both have had our last life on earth and found ourselves laughing at something as stupid as a slight pitch lowering. I decided to introduce myself first," I'm 'Bela. 17 and I love good music."

John laughed. "Well I was John Lennon. 40 and I also love good music." He looked a little younger than what he did in 1980. Then I wondered if we could will our appearances to change but it didn't matter that much right now. I nodded," I guessed that when you were talking about Julia. I know you probably get this a lot but I'm a huge fan." I realized that I was wearing the Abbey Road t-shirt still.

"It's alright. I don't mean to pry but did you die wearing your t-shirt?" John's question hit bit too close for comfort. I waited a moment trying to think of a way to explain it. "Yeah, pretty glad I did though. It was my favorite t-shirt."

"Well that is one positive thing about today. At least you were wearing your favorite shirt." I smiled. So far other than dying and realizing that none of my relatives were on the other side of life, today was a great day. I had met John Lennon. I was wearing my favorite t-shirt and I heard all of the songs off Revolver twice. I had one question though that was not Beatles related. "Where exactly do spirits live?" He made a weird facial expression. I continued the thought," Like are we assigned apartments or do we just wander endlessly through 'paradise'?"

John laughed," Most of us live in our own places in the city. Though there are some people that want to stay alone most of the time." I nodded. Despite the fact that I still had questions about this city of souls, I knew that I'd be in here long enough to know how the system works. After all, I did finally balance my karma, so I knew everything that I could about life. _Right?_

"'Bela, since you're new and I had someone help me get on my feet, I thought that I could return the favor." John smiled. I could tell he was offering the lifeboat I needed. "Thank you. I'd like that." I stretched a little bit. I guessed that even if I was dead, my back got sore out of habit or something. I stood up and I saw that the sun was setting. Had I really spent most of my day walking without purpose and crying about circumstances that I couldn't control? I pitied myself for a little bit. It was just like me to waste a Saturday. No wonder I hated them, with Saturdays coming before Sundays, and Sundays coming before Mondays.

"Well, are you coming?" John was already up and walking. I quickly caught up and replied," Yeah, I am. I just get a little caught up with my thoughts. It's been a busy day." We walked through the park and back through the city but we were walking with the flow of traffic. I noticed that there were bookstores, TV stores, and I also saw a couple of Starbucks-esque coffee shops. I guess I didn't really notice them because of the fact that I was enveloped in the idea of being alone. And now, everything seemed clearer because there was at least one familiar face in this goddamned place.

Before I knew it, we were at the apartment building. It looked like the Dakota and I realized that John was waiting for Yoko to live her life and then to join him here. I felt disheartened when I knew that it could take at least a couple of lifetimes for it to happen. Where was the justice in karma? If the universe were fair then lovers would united in death. Everything that I knew about love and romance shattered in that moment. I felt bitter. I wished that dying would help me let go of my strong sense of right and wrong, but no, I was more determined than I had ever been in my last life. John opened the door to his apartment and I stepped inside. I knew this friendship was going to last.


	3. I saw the News Today, oh Boy

**Author's Note: Again thank you readers for reviewing, watching, and favoriting my fanfiction. I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you. I personally recommend "Dreamer" by FlowerChild17 if you need a fanfiction to read that is pretty good. **

If I could use just one word to describe John's apartment,it would be modern. Yes, I know I shouldn't have been shocked, considering the fact that I had died and been through a lot in a single day, but I was amazed. There was a flat screen TV, a nice looking black couch that I could only guess that was made out of something other than leather, a maple coffee table, a desk that had a laptop computer, a couple of doors that I could only guess that led to the bedroom and another room. I turned around saw that there was a stainless steel kitchen. I guessed that spirits needed to eat too. This world was more convoluted than I thought it would be. Oh well, I could show John how to make tacitos. I sat on the couch and instantly the TV turned on. "What the hell?! I don't remember TVs working like this! Where is the goddamn remote?!" I was startled by the sudden change.

John laughed a bit. "I forgot about how disorienting the TVs can be your first week of being here." He had closed the door and joined me on the couch. The TV was staticcy for a couple more seconds. It began focusing on my local News Station, K-FOX 14. I saw my picture on a side thing on the screen. "This can't be good."

I felt worse now than when the fourth bullet hit my skull. It only confirmed that this wasn't some morbid dream. This shit was real now. Why? Because it was on television. I wanted to just curl up and resurrect, but now that wasn't an option. "Another person was claimed by the drug cartel, this time the violence from Juarez has spread into our lovely city. Chabela Garcia, 17, and a native of Las Cruces died while she was babysitting for her uncle in El Paso. Now to hear about our first baseball game of the season—" The TV began to only play static again and it showed my entire family eating at one giant table at Golden Corral.

"Okay, this is a sight to see. I'm dead and my divorced family is eating together. At least I brought unity to something." I was slightly amused at the fact my dad was sitting next to Abby when the last words he said to Abby as he left the house were 'You're just a bastard child of a backstabbing bitch.'

"I know it probably doesn't mean much to you but people tend to understand the bigger picture when you're six feet under and buried." I knew that John spoke the truth. Hadn't people realized that peace was more important when Martin Luther King Jr., Gandhi, and John Lennon had died? "It means a lot to me actually. At least my family isn't arguing about who is at fault here. It's clear. I was the idiot that had to be the 'hero.'"

I spoke too soon. My dad made a comment," You know our daughter would be here if you didn't raise her on that Hippie music."

Abby rose to my defense," At least 'Bela died for peace! She might have been naïve for thinking that if she played the album to her killer that maybe he'd join in and leave us alone, but still it's a better way of living than always being paranoid of people! I know that she's probably hanging out with George and John right now and they probably love her more than we ever got to tell her!" Everyone at the table looked at her. She was embarrassed by the attention and sat down.

"I'm guessing your sister isn't usually this outgoing." John's comment put me back in the afterlife. "Yeah, Abby's normally really shy. She has this sort of protective shell thing going on for her. She doesn't speak. My mom ignores her. She doesn't get hurt. I looked after her because I knew she needed love. I don't like it when people get treated unfairly."

"What do you know? You're just a bastard child that doesn't know how the world works." My dad drank his mug of coffee. "Besides John Lennon and George Harrison are in Hell. I'm pretty sure _my_ 'Bela is not in Hell with them."

"Well I'm giving you my opinion, regardless of whether you want it. I don't think there is a Hell or Heaven. I think it's just a collection of souls because if someone hasn't even heard about a Son of God and can't be saved. What is the point of even having Hell at all when you can be punished eternally for not even knowing about God?" Abby stood strong and brave. This had to be her last life. She understood the Afterlife more than I did.

My father and the table were speechless for a whole five minutes. My mother broke the silence," Well that sounds like Buddhism, honey."

Abby shrugged as she replied," Then I'm a Buddhist."

I smiled," At least, she's standing on her own two feet. I thought she would retreat back into her shell and never come around. I'd do anything to talk to her though. Just so that she knows that she is on the right track of the afterlife."

John put a kind hand on my shoulder;" We can visit dreams or stop people who have a greater purpose from committing suicide, any other interference with the outside world and we're breaking the rules."

"Well that's annoying." My honesty had a tendency of making me look like an asshole.

"It's more than annoying. I can't even tell Yoko or Sean that I'm still out there without them not believing it later because it was just a dream to them. I hate the astral veil more than anything else in existence." I could tell that John was frustrated. I didn't blame him.

"You know an important lesson that somebody taught me when I was alive was that if you don't like something about the world then you can shout until someone listens and then makes the change. We have all the time in the world, so what have we got to lose?"


	4. Somebody Spoke and I went into a Dream

**Author's Note: Again, thank you everyone! If you want to know what inspired me to write this, I'll be honest. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine to use Google to look up "Ghost Encounters/Sightings John Lennon" and "Near Death Experiences". After one too many sessions with the search engine, I have compiled a couple of sort-of "facts" (I say facts with a grain of salt because they could possibly be wrong but they could also be right) that keep showing on different sites and sources. John still loves Yoko from the other side and his life where he was the man we know and love (John Lennon) was his last life and he doesn't want to reincarnate anymore. I don't blame him at all. The cycle of reincarnation itself seems boring and tedious. Anyway, I came up with this idea after reading theories about the Mayan Calendar and the one that caught my eye was the astral veil breaks theory and so this fanfiction was born out of tons of research and hard work.**

After realizing that the TV wouldn't turn off unless I got off that damned couch, John carried a futon mattress and some blankets and pillows to the living room. I offered to help but John was persistent in doing it by himself. "No, it's alright. Being dead has some advantages even if there are _some _problems with it."

I jumped off the couch like it was on fire. It was nice seeing Abby through the screen, but seeing the awkward car ride back was depressing. I felt confident that Abby would finally be brave and more outgoing, when I saw her stand up for herself at Golden Corral. The car ride showed me that she was still the quiet girl I used to know that hated attention. Maybe things weren't going to change after my death.

"What if Abby heads back into her shell and never comes out?" I spoke my mind as I was making my impromptu bed.

"'Bela, I know this going to be hard to believe, but everything will be alright. I can tell Abby's on the right path." John was sitting on the corner of the mattress. His words of wisdom quieted my worries and I felt tired. "I should probably call it a night or day. Whatever the hell it's been has worn me out." I over-exaggerated a yawn. John laughed. "Sounds like a good idea."

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

When I fell asleep in the living room, I didn't know what to expect from the dream world. I mean a peaceful, uneventful sleep with just blackness would have sufficed. I would have gladly taken that over most anything. My luck was not that good.

The dream world for spirits is basically sitting in front of a screen that displays a picture of a living person, their name, and it shows their dream. I began searching the rows and rows of people for my sister Abby. I scanned it multiple times but I could not find her. I decided to go do some spirit prank calling on a couple of celebrities. _Hmmm… Yoko? John would probably kick me out of the house and I don't have anything against her. Paul McCartney? Is he even asleep? Hmmm, that one girl from the Disney show that Abby used to like but now hates? Sounds like a good candidate._

I felt someone touch my shoulder. I turned my head and I realized that George Harrison was standing behind me. Wait, there were a couple of things wrong with that or to have been wrong. Wouldn't George like to reincarnate? I mean; regardless of having been on the cycle multiple times, I would have thought that he would go on the cycle one more time. "Okay is this the real afterlife or just me having a screwed up dream?"

George, who looked like he was in his late twenties, answered my question. "It's a bit of both." I raised an eyebrow to show how skeptical I was. "I'm here to tell you that your idea for revolution sounds difficult to accomplish, but you've got me sold."

I stared at him for a moment, confused, "What are you talking about?" I thought for a moment, thinking about what I've said since the big 'D' hit me. "Oh you're talking about that veil thing. What exactly is the astral veil?"

George laughed a bit, probably at my stupidity, but he composed himself. "The astral veil is what separates the world of the living from the world of the dead. To be more in depth about it, it surrounds every living thing and it acts as barrier so that we 'don't go mad.' Sometimes for brief moments the veil is broken, like when you told your sister that it wasn't her fault you died."

"I had a feeling she could see me!" I felt like a calculator had divided by zero just for me. Did I just punch the ceiling in my dream? Oh well, wasn't like I would be paying for it anyway. I could feel myself blush. "Sorry, continue."

George continued to explain about the astral veil and various ways it can be broken momentarily and what the weak points of it are. I decided to take notes. _The astral veil is weak around people who have open minds. It also breaks for an extended period of time if someone is successful at holding a séance but that's rare so don't count on it. It can be broken if you need to spread a message. Radio static can sometimes pick up these messages. Orbs in pictures are not actually ghosts but a sign that a spirit has left the City of Souls. If someone is trying hard to find you and you're searching for someone in particular, you can use telepathy to communicate with them. If someone is very close to death and you're outside the city and you see them, they can see you. If outside the City of Souls, a spirit can let a living person know their emotions. If you have a very strong will, you can manipulate someone's creative process (which includes dancing, cooking, playing an instrument, acting, and writing down poetry or songs). _

I yawned and I realized that the dream was over. I felt a pen and a notebook next to me. I checked a clock and I realized it was 5:49 AM. My mind had begun to work at a thousand miles per minute. Number nine was the answer to everything.


End file.
